Danger Days
by Nico Morrison
Summary: In a post apocalyptic world, there are two options: Fight to the death for freedom or submit to Better Living Industries, which seeks to enslave the remainder of the world's population through mind control. Love, adventure, laser guns...this one has it all.
1. The Intensity With Which She Burns

_**Hey all...I'm baaaaaaaaaack. This time with something a little different. Bending the rules a bit, but this is a fanfiction based off The Killjoy Chronicles by My Chemical Romance. I'll be taking a LOT of creative liberties. We're set in a post apocalyptic world where it's either fight and be free or submit and be conquered. We'll get deeper into things as the story goes. I'm hoping some of my old followers will give this a chance. Also, I make my own formats. You know that if you've read my other stuff. Enjoy!**_

_**-Nico**_

"Holy shit. We gotta get outta here. Like five minutes ago."

Broken Rainbow stared up at her friend, whose arm was still extended and holding a pale pink, smoking laser gun.

"Panic," Rainbow said, calling her friend's name, hoping to snap her out of her stupor. "C'mon, he's dead, we gotta go!"

Rainbow shifted her gaze briefly to the drac laying on the ground, just beneath the smoking gun. A pulsing red light on his chest, beneath the man's standard issue white jumpsuit, began to slow. After a moment, the blinking ceased.

His heart had stopped beating.

"Oh, my God," Panicked Star let out the breath she had been holding in a shaky chuckle. "That was close."

"They're training them better," Rainbow said, already rifling through the dead man's pockets, ignoring the smell of charred flesh wafting up from his laser wound. She lifted his weapon from his stiffening hand with a little effort. "And giving them better weapons," she remarked, marveling at the gun in her hand for a moment before taking in her surroundings.

The crumbling hotel room that she and Panicked Star had been sharing for the past few days had seemed like a palace when they first found the building. It had been a themed hotel at some point...no doubt a place of ill repute back before the world went to hell...a dirty hole of a place just off the highway on the outskirts of Las Vegas...but when the lifelong friends had discovered it after a week long journey by foot the faded animal print decor and rotted away mattresses rivaled any shelter they had found in years.

It looked a bit more in shambles now, with six dead Dracs littering the room. A bright crimson splatter dripped in trickles down one wall. Scorch marks covered nearly every surface, evidence of their latest...and so far most deadly...encounter with the soldiers of Better Living Industries.

Panicked Star, so named for the intensity with which she burned, had finally come back to reality and was already grabbing the faded green, canvas duffle bag she carried her supplies within. She grabbed her few possessions and within moments was ready to flee once more. She ignored the precision with which her escapes were now executed; it was becoming too normal.

"Where are we going?" Rainbow asked, also packed and ready to run.

West," Panic replied, double checking to make sure her weapon was recharging. "We take Route Guano out to Zone Six."

Rainbow shook her head. "Doctor Death-defying reported heavy surveillance along Route Guano. We're on foot...there's no way we'll make it out that far."

Panic stepped over a Drac's body, ignoring the squish of blood under her booted foot. She moved a faded curtain from the window with the tip of her gun, peering out to the sandy lot around the old hotel. Two official Scarecrow Unit vehicles were parked out front; one a sleek motorcycle and the other a shiny white van with blacked out windows.

"We'll take the van," Panic decided. Rainbow scoffed.

"Right," she said. "Then we get stopped or noticed and they kill us without waiting for us to speak."

Panic looked down at the dead Drac again, fighting against the revulsion rising in her throat. "Not if we're dressed like them," she said, looking meaningfully down at the Drac's issued mask.

Rainbow's eyebrows shot up as she inferred her friend's suggestion. "You're nuts," she said, shuddering. "I'm not wearing one of those uniforms."

"It's the only way," Panic reasoned. "We can't stay near Battery City anymore, this is the third time in two weeks they've found us." She gestured to the dead Dracs. 'We're running out of places to hide. We have to get out to Zone Six and join with other rebels. We gotta lay low for a bit."

Rainbow realized she was right. They had freed just over a dozen rebels from Battery City in the past month and were on Scarecrow's radar. They wouldn't be able to help for a while, lest they find themselves caught and imprisoned for their crimes. And there were no safe havens left near the city anymore. The Dracs were getting better at finding and eliminating rebels with every passing day. Their only hope lay out in Zone Six, where entire communities of rebels still existed and they could find a degree of protection and anonymity. True, the compounds were little more than ghettos, but they were free of the ever-threatening presence of Better Living Industries. At least for the time being.

"The one by my bed looks to be about your size," Panic said, already pulling the boots and pants off of a Drac that was a little bigger than she. "Bring your rebel clothes; we'll ditch the car and change just before Zone Six."

Rainbow swallowed against some queasiness and obeyed, trying not to look at the fallen Drac's face as she removed his mask.

Panic scoffed from behind her mask as she fiddled with an intricate push pad on the dash of the Scarecrow van. "Look at this," she said to Rainbow, who was sitting quietly in the passenger's seat, avoiding her own reflection in the passenger side mirror. "They have climate control in their cars." Panic scoffed again, her voice a bit muffled by the Drac mask she wore. "That's how they avoid Zone Sickness. All these years I've been wondering..."

"Yeah well it must be nice to go from place to place without having to vomit every fifteen minutes," Rainbow muttered, wholly anxious and uncomfortable in her current situation. "How much further?"

"We're about two hours from Zone Six," Panic replied, tucking a lock of pastel-pink hair back under her mask. "Then it's probably another two to Community Five."

Rainbow looked over at her friend sharply. "Why are we going all the way out to Community Five?"

Panic's mouth thinned into a tight line behind her mask. "Neon's mother lives there," she said quietly. "She deserves to know what happened to him."

Rainbow opened her mouth to reply, but then snapped it shut, thankful her friend couldn't see the action.

She knew not to push it when it came to Neon.

"Well, they better still have running water all the way out there," Rainbow muttered, changing the subject but remaining morose. She folded her arms across her chest and became fixated, once again and to her dismay at her own reflection in the passenger mirror. She couldn't quell the hate she had for the Draculoid image, even though she knew she lay beneath it.

The deep metaphor was not lost on her, but she put her head back and closed her eyes against it.


	2. We Got A System

Panic was thankful that her friend had fallen asleep. The deep, even sound of her breathing filled the cab of the car. It was strangely comforting, hypnotic even as the dusty road lay out ahead of her. She took pleasure in pressing down the accelerator as far as it would go, enjoying the reckless abandon that came with traveling at such high speeds. She smirked behind her mask, reflecting, not for the first time, just how much she really enjoyed the life of a rebel.

The sky was beginning to turn different shades of pink and purple, signifying the death of another day. The oppressive heat outside would slowly ebb into the freezing night; it seemed a meteorological impossibility yet every day Panic found herself battling heat exhaustion and frostbite each night. Not that it mattered at the moment. She took a deep breath of the purified, technologically altered air within the cab of the Scarecrow Unit. It seemed becoming a Drac had its perks.

Of course Panic would rather walk through the flames of hell each moment for the rest of her life than call herself a Drac.

Besides, she thought to herself, adjusting the plastic mask over her face, their outfits were terribly uncomfortable.

A small plume of dust in her rear view caught her eye. It seemed to zig and zag just out of her line of vision. It took several moments of watching the patterned movement of the dust ball on the horizion, but Panic eventually determined that someone...or something...was following them.

"Rainbow," she said, her voice a bit sharp with anticipation. "Wake up. We've got a tail."

Rainbow jolted awake into full alertness, another side effect of the life of a rebel. She peered into the passenger side mirror, her eyes following the strange movement of whatever was behind them.

"I don't think its Dracs," she said after a few moments, her eyes squinting. "It looks like an older model car...maybe something from the late 90's."

Panic's eye flitted to her rear view again. "It's rebels," she said, her voice a mixture of relief and apprehension. Some rebels shot Dracs sight unseen.

Not that she could blame them, necessarily, but seeing as how she very much resembled one right now, it was definitely a point of contention.

"Take off your mask," Panic said, pulling her own from her head. "We're less than a mile from Community Three. We'll pull over just before the gates and explain ourselves."

"They might shoot you as soon as you open the door," Rainbow pointed out.

"They might," Panic allowed. "But hopefully they'd realize a Drac wouldn't have this," she tugged on the mass of pastel-pink ropes of hair tied in a huge, thick knot atop her head.

"I knew this was a bad idea," Rainbow muttered.

"Hey, if it had been Dracs following us, you'd be thanking your lucky stars for that get up," Panic smirked. "Or at least your panicked stars."

"Not everything is a joke," Rainbow said, rolling her eyes.

"Always living up to your namesake," Panic replied. "Here we go," she added as the tarnished, wooden gates of Community Three came into view. About seven feet in height and manufactured almost entirely out of found materials, the gates guarded a small offshoot of road that led to one of the few remaining rebel societies. Panic had been to this particular Community before, maybe a year ago. She knew it was one of the larger, more self sufficient groups of rebels...she had even heard since her last visit they had set up a government of sorts, regulating life in the seven remaining communities that lay within the vapid desert of Zone Six.

She was curious to see it in action.

Provided of course she survived the next couple of minutes.

She easily maneuvered the Scarecrow Unit onto a small patch of dirt outside of the gate. The vehicle that had been following them came into view; a small red pick up with many colorful weaponry elements affixed to the exterior. Fairly typical of rebel transportation. Rainbow and Panic watched in their mirrors as the occupants of the truck emerged, weapons drawn. Somehow four of them had managed to squeeze themselves into the vehicle. Panic sighed.

"I'll go out first," she said. "It was my idea to wear these, after all."

Rainbow drew her laser into her lap. "Be careful."

"Way to try and stop me," Panic smirked, concealing her gun in her beat up black leather jacket. Then, after a moment of quiet, she said, "you know what to do if I get ghosted."

It wasn't a question. It was a statement. It was the same statement she made before all of their dangerous situations. Rainbow nodded automatically.

"See ya in a minute," Panic said, opening her door and exiting slowly.

"I'm a rebel," she called to the four men with their weapons drawn. "This is an elaborate and super clever escape costume."

"Put your hand up where we can see 'em!" Came the barked response. Panic sighed, placing her hands on her head.

"Ok, fine!" She called back. "My friend is in the car. We're on your side."

"Tell your passenger to exit!" The man yelled.

Panic sighed again.

"Rainbow, come out," She said, loud enough for her friend to hear but quiet enough so the rebels couldn't. "I don't think we're in immediate danger, they're just being careful. They could have shot me five times over by now if they wanted to."

"That's comforting," Rainbow scoffed, exiting the car with her hands on her head.

"See?" Panic called. "Rebels. Both of us. Feel free to come check us out."

"Don't move an inch!" The order came. Panic rolled her eyes and watched as the rebels made their way cautiously closer. They must be young, Panic decided. Older rebels like herself were more calculated...they moved more quickly; their decisions sharper. No hesitation.

Her suspicions were confirmed as four teenagers came into view, their lean bodies made strong from work yet awkward with the twist of puberty. Panic tried not to smirk so much at their fierce expressions as they searched the car and their bags, finding nothing more than typical rebel supplies and clothing.

"We stole the car and the clothes to help us escape out here to Zone Six," Rainbow offered. "We had heard patrols were increasing along Route Guano and we're wanted."

"Whaddya wanted for?" One of the boys asked, genuinely curious about the women he was still holding at gunpoint.

"We free imprisoned rebels from Battery City," Panic answered truthfully. "Bl/ind no likey," she added for good measure, winking.

"We're at the top of the extermination list, so we couldn't take any chances," Rainbow explained more concisely and professionally, just a tinge of pride in her tone.

"Where are the Dracs that this shit belonged to?" Another boy asked, gesturing to the clothing and the car.

"Depends on what you believe about the afterlife," Panic shrugged. "Me, personally, I think they're right where I left em...laying with holes in their heads courtesy of Mama Pearl," she said, patting her jacket.

When the boys realized she was referring to her gun, they exchanged glances, visibly nervous about how to proceed. "I'm not gonna shoot you guys," Panic said, realizing she now held the upper hand. "But we would like to bring the car inside where it won't be seen. Maybe grab a bite or two if your little town here could spare it."

One boy, clearly considered at least by the other boys he was with to be the leader, nodded. The other three holstered their guns. "I thank you," Panic said, bowing a bit.

"It's not a little town," the group "leader" informed Panic as she turned to get back in the driver's seat. "We're the biggest rebel development by far." Panic looked up at him from her seat, the pride on his face tugging a bit at her heart.

"Sure kid, whatever," she replied, closing the door.

"They've got kids patrolling the streets now," Rainbow scoffed from the passenger seat, watching as the boys moved to open the gates. "How developed could they really be?"

Panic started to reply, but then snapped her mouth shut as she navigated the BL/ind van behind the pick up and through the now-open gates. There were trees lining the streets. Actual fucking TREES. Small patches of dusty green grass lay along the road as well...and in between buildings that almost looked...inhabitable.

"Are you seeing this shit?" Panic asked an equally stunned Rainbow as she cruised slowly behind the pick up truck, her heart feeling a flicker of something akin to hopefulness as she took in her surroundings. They were driving down a veritable main street, populated with colorful rebels going about their business: greeting friends, patronizing what looked to be a variety of stores and shops...children played along a broken sidewalk, their laughter penetrating even the thick glass of the van.

"Where the fuck are we?" Panic scoffed, her voice tripping over a laugh. "Pleasantville?"

"I haven't seen grass since I was a kid," Rainbow marveled, her fingertips resting against the window of the van, as if they meant to touch the blades.

The pick up pulled into an alleyway between two buildings, tucked out of sight. One of the boys jumped out and guided the van into an adjacent spot, giving a thumbs up when he was satisfied with its placement.

"We'll cover it," the boy told Panic as she exited. "It will be safe here."

"Kid, what is this place?" Panic asked, gesturing back towards "Main Street." "This isn't a normal rebel community." The boy smiled.

"I told you, we ain't little," he repeated. "We've got a really good system goin'."

"A system?" Panic repeated.

"We drove right up to the gates before you stopped us," Rainbow pointed out. "And technically, we stopped ourselves...so what kind of system do you have that would allow potential enemies to get so close?"

The boys, now having all exited the pickup, collectively chuckled. "We've been following you for the last ten miles," he said. "We could tell you weren't Scarecrows."

"How were you so sure?" Panic asked, genuinely curious.

"The way you drove," one of the other boys answered.

"You never would have gotten so close if we thought you were a serious threat," the leader continued.

"Is that so?" Panic challenged, feeling slightly ruffled. The boy nodded. "How, may I ask, would you have stopped us?"

"Like I said," he replied, smiling a bit, "we have a system."


	3. Father Poison

Panic looked over at Rainbow, her eyebrows raised quizzically. Rainbow shrugged. "Can we see the rest of the...town?" She tripped over the word "town," having not used it in so long it felt foreign on her tongue...yet there was no other word for where they found themselves currently. This wasn't another rebel ghetto full of charm and poverty...this appeared to be a fully functional society...a shadow of what life was like before the great fires...but so much closer to normal than either of them had ever seen.

"Depends," one of the boys said, casually checking to make sure his weapon was recharging. "How long are you planning on staying?"

Panic and Rainbow exchanged glances, both nodding. They silently agreed that they needed to see more of this place. "We need some supplies, maybe a good meal and a night's rest," Panic replied.

"Then you gotta meet with someone on the council," one of the boys informed her, waving a casual 'goodbye' to two of the other boys who jumped back in the pickup, presumably back out on patrol. The girls were now flanked with a boy on each side, casually guiding them back out onto the street.

"The council?" Panic repeated, not used to feeling so lost for words.

"It's no big deal," the boy at her side said. "We have a government of sorts...a few people who sort of call the shots here...they just like to meet visitors. Anyone staying more than a few hours."

"It keeps the town safe," the other boy added, for some reason feeling the need to justify. "We look out for each other; it's good to know who's who."

"Makes sense," Panic nodded.

"What about BL/ind?" Rainbow interjected. "How do you keep them out?"

"If you end up staying longer than a night, maybe you'll find out," the first boy smiled again, obviously trying to appear as charming as possible. He stuck his hand out to Panic. "I'm Zip Line," he introduced himself. "That's Marley Shout," he jutted his chin over to the other boy, who nodded in acknowledgment.

"Panicked Star, Broken Rainbow," Panic replied, pointing first to herself and then Rainbow.

"We'll bring you to Warped Red," Zip decided, turning left onto the main road. "She's over at the library with the kids today."

"Wait," Panic stopped in her tracks. "A library?"

"Yeah, Red's been collecting books for the past 20 years or so. Opened our town library seven months ago." The pride in Marley's voice was tangible.

Panic and Rainbow walked in silence behind the two boys, their mouths both slightly agape at their surroundings. They passed at least three different stores, one selling delicious smelling meat served in a fluffy, flakey shell, one selling ammunition and weapons and another beautifully woven clothing. Panic looked down at her tattered black clothing and made a mental note to come back and get a new outfit...and possibly one of those meat snacks.

Rebels dotted the streets, talking and laughing casually, every once in a while pausing to check out the new visitors to their community, some even smiling.

They passed what looked like a school and a makeshift doctor's office, complete with stacked supplies visible through the windows.

What looked like a hotel was visible on the left, a colorfully painted sign notifying passers by that there was vacancy.

It was, in a word, incredible.

They reached the front of a slightly crumbling, yet vibrantly decorated brick building. "This is it," Zip announced, leading them inside.

It was dark, save a few strategically placed candles. Electricity had become all but obsolete everywhere besides Battery City; a measure meant to further deter rebels from inhabiting the zones. Still, the library had a warm and cozy feeling, with hundreds of books in varying degrees of disrepair lining the walls on neat shelves.

Panic became aware of a man's voice, soft and lilting, in the distance. They walked deeper into the structure of the library and the voice got louder and louder until they came upon a scene that made Panic audibly gasp.

Seven children, none older than ten or so, were sitting in a semi-circle at the feet of a man who was reading them a story. They all sat rapt at the tale. Even the man's dark head was bowed over the book as he told in dramatic, melodic tones a story involving a dragon and a princess.

When Panic gasped, they all turned to look at her. The man lifted his head, his vividly hazel eyes locking with hers for a moment. So perfect was his face, that Panic felt taken off guard. His hair was a vibrant red, with a visible inch or two of dark growth at the root. His mouth parted crookedly, his chin just slightly dimpled. So distracted was Panic at the sight of his face that it took her a moment before she saw the stiffly starched white collar at his throat,

The man smiled at her and then went back to reading, leaving Panic confused and feeling raw...as if something very important had just happened, yet it was unidentifiable.

An older rebel woman floated into the room, her floral patterned, form fitting dress billowing out around her. Tornadoes of gray and brown curls exploded from her head. A set of small, cracked glasses sat on the bridge of her nose. She approached the group, her eyes smiling gently amid a nest of crow's feet.

"They're rebels," Zip told the woman when she came into view. "Running in a stolen Drac Van. Looking for some rest and supplies.'

"Have you hidden the van?" The woman asked, her eyes still smiling warmly.

"We have," Marley replied.

"Very good," the woman replied. "You are dismissed, I can certainly handle things from here."

"Yes ma'am," the boys replied in unison.

"Thank you for your work," the woman told them.

"Of course," Zip replied.

"Any time," Marley said at the same time.

As the boys nodded their goodbyes to Panic and Rainbow, the woman stood before them. "You've arrived during story time," she said, smiling. "I'm Warped Red. And you are?"

"Panicked Star."

"Broken Rainbow."

The woman nodded. "The names have gotten prettier over the years," she remarked, motioning for the girls to follow her to an adjacent room.

Panic looked over her shoulder as she followed, her eyes falling on the priest once more. To her surprise, he once again lifted his eyes to meet hers. An electric shock jolted through her veins, as if her blood had suddenly been sparked. A chill ran over her skin as she quickly looked away, her hand at her throat for just a moment as she fought to compose herself.

"What can we help you with?" Red asked, folding her hands gently in front of her. Panic and Rainbow looked at each other again, both struggling to make sense of this place.

"We've been running for a few months now," Panic said. "Been freeing captive rebels from BL/ind detention centers." The woman nodded appreciatively.

"Dangerous work," she commented. "But necessary."

Both Panic and Rainbow nodded.

"We're on the radar," Rainbow continued. "We were headed out to Community Five to deliver some information. You guys got to us before that."

"We do apologize for that," Red said genuinely. "But we have to protect our surroundings, you understand."

"Of course," Rainbow agreed.

"So you'll be wanting to stay the night? Two?" Red asked.

"If you don't mind," Panic nodded.

"Not at all; all rebels are welcome," Red said, touching them each gently on the shoulder. "We've set up an Inn of sorts across the street," she pointed out of a shuttered window. "It's nothing fancy, but there's running water if you don't mind a cold shower, the beds are comfortable and the restaurant downstairs is stocked. Panic's stomach rumbled. She'd had nothing but cold, canned Power Pup for weeks. A warm meal sounded almost painfully good.

"And what do you want in return?" Rainbow asked, skeptical of this place.

Red smiled. "You've been out in the zones too long," she said, her voice a bit sad. "We don't want anything in return. You're part of the rebel family."

Panic was taken back. It had been so long since she had been on the receiving end of such kind generosity. After living day to day dealing with life of death situations, the warmth of this place felt foreign and uncomfortable. "We're both good shots," she suddenly offered, feeling the need to be even with this place. "We could stay a few days and take a few patrol shifts. I'm sure your regulars could use relieving."

Red nodded, quietly understanding what Panic was dealing with. "We'd appreciate that."

The girls each picked up their respective bags, getting ready to head over to the "Inn," as Red had called it. As Rainbow took the lead, Panic cleared her throat a bit. "Sorry, but...who is he?" She pointed at the priest in the other room, staying out of his line of vision.

Red smiled. "That's Father Poison," she replied. "He holds services twice a week if you're interested."

Panic's mouth opened and closed. Religion? Out here in the lawless zones? She shook her head, declining politely.

"Well. Sundays and Thursdays, if you change your mind," Red smiled again.

"Yeah, thanks," Panic said giving her an awkward wave as she lowered her head, too unprepared to meet the priest's gaze once more on her way out.


	4. Fight Blind, Stay Free

The Inn, as it was called, was as Red had described: free of frills but warm and comfortable. They had procured a room, leaving a few dollar bills with the keeper despite his insistence that they could stay for free. The room was airy and light with a faded floral theme decorating the walls and floor. The beds were obviously constructed by the people in the town, with frames made of upcycled woods and metals...but the mattresses were comfortable and the sheets were clean. A small bathroom provided an icy blast of a shower and even a sliver of fragrant rose soap.

It was incredibly decadent.

"Dibs on the shower," Rainbow announced as they entered their room. "I haven't washed my hair in about 2 months."

"Fine by me," Panic replied, dropping her bag and counting what remained of the wadded up bills she usually kept shoved in her black bra. "I wanted to go back and grab something to wear. My duds are shredded."

"Be safe," Rainbow said, pulling out some clean clothes from her bag. Panic nodded and ducked back out of the room and into the streets.

She walked slowly down the stretch of road, quietly observing the easy, peaceful surroundings. She found herself heading towards a medium sized tree on one side of the road, sitting between two buildings. Almost unconsciously, her fingertips grazed the bark, her nose deeply inhaling the sharp, clean scent of nature. She took a few more breaths, not able to stop the smile that spread across her face. She did this until she felt a light tug on one of the shreds of her shirt.

She looked down, perhaps a bit sharply, surprised to see a young girl with the curliest hair Panic had ever seen, her eyes wide in a moment of fright. Wordlessly, she thrust an object into Panic's hand. Panic looked down. A small, foil-wrapped ball rested in the palm of her hand. She looked at the girl, surprised.

"Is this..chocolate?" Panic asked, her mouth watering at the thought of the preciously rare commodity. The little girl smiled and nodded.

"You're giving this to me?" Panic asked. The girl nodded again and ran back across the street where two of her friends were jumping over a rope and giggling. Panic looked down at her hand, the small, foil-wrapped treat almost too good to be true. Without being able to stop herself, and with just a bit of gluttonous shame, she quickly tore the wrapping away and popped the slightly stale chocolate in her mouth, moaning audibly as the sugary candy melted against her tongue.

She tilted her head back, feeling the warmth of the sun on her face. Communities often formed where zone gases were low and that was certainly the case in Community Three. The air was almost cool, brushing her ropes of hair from their confines atop her head and into her face.

She closed her eyes and spun a bit, the sugar and the air too delicious not to revel in.

She stopped when she heard a soft chuckle. She opened her eyes. The priest from the library was standing next to the tree, his hands casually in his pockets, watching her with interest. "The children found a stash of candy in the old pharmacy several months ago; their supply must be dwindling by now. You should be honored." He smiled warmly, his lips crookedly dipping to the left.

Panic smiled back, careful to keep her lips closed as she slowly chewed the last bit of the chocolate. She swallowed and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "It's been a long time since I had candy," she said, feeling like the words were asinine and insignificant. The priest smiled anyhow.

"That's Missle Kid," the priest said, flipping his fire-engine red hair from his eyes and jutting his chin in the direction of the girl who had given panic the candy. "She has a bulletproof heart."

Panic was a bit taken back by his choice of words. They seemed heavy with meaning yet drenched in poetics. "A Bulletproof heart?" She echoed, stifling a chuckle.

The priest nodded. "She is unchanged by the harshness of the world in which she exists," he elaborated. "Most of the other children are numb to the violence around them; she's different. Special."

Panic looked over at the curly-haired girl, dressed in a colorful array of clothing, a hat and goggle combo pulled halfway down over her head. "I haven't seen a kid outside of Battery City in years," she commented.

"There aren't many," the priest acknowledged. "Eleven live in Community Three; we do our best to keep them safe." He stepped towards her, extending his hand. "I'm Father Poison," he introduced himself. Panic took his hand, momentarily distracted by their large size.

"I'm Panicked Star," she said, now distracted by the way the sunset behind her was reflecting in his eyes. She forced herself to appear nonchalant. "I was just going to buy a few new pairs of clothes," she said, gesturing to the shops on the streets. Father Poison nodded, staring at her in a way that was slightly unnerving. After a moment or two, Panic cleared her throat. Father Poison blinked.

"I'm sorry," he muttered. "It's just..." he paused, trying to find the right words. He looked up at the sky for a moment and then back to her. "I felt compelled to introduce myself," he said vaguely.

"No, I get it," Panic said, pulling a tarnished pair of aviator sunglasses over her eyes. "You gotta protect the town."

A strange look fell across Father Poison's face for a moment, and then he smiled again. "Right," he agreed.

She was staring at him again, she realized. His face was all at once angelic and dangerous, all strong angles and sharp features. His mouth, comprised of two plusher-than average lips, parted crookedly when he spoke and smiled, as if he was afraid to open it all the way. His shoulders were slightly hunched, as if he were burdened with some heavy weight. He was dressed all in black, save the spot of white at his throat. His hair would have been the most startling part of his appearance had it not been commonplace for rebels to sport vibrantly colored locks as a symbol of their artistic freedom. Rather it was his eyes that would not stop taking her breath away; two deep, dark hazel pools of light and dark that seemed to reflect everything they gazed upon. Thick, dark lashes surrounded each incredible orb.

He was truly beautiful.

A loud engine roaring closer distracted them for a moment. Down the main drag an older model vehicle could be seen approaching, a plume of dust trailing behind it like a dirty veil. As the car approached, music and male laughter could be heard. Father Poison looked serenely at the car as it stopped along side them. A short yet attractive man jumped out of the passenger's seat. A cigarette dangled out of the side of his smiling mouth while a green monster mask rest up on his forehead.

"Party!" He exclaimed, clapping his hands together once in glee. "We're back!" At the same time, Missle Kid ran over, embracing the man enthusiastically.

"Glad to see in one piece," Father Poison nodded, his face eerily void of emotion.

"Didn't ya miss us at all?" The monster man asked, his lower lip pouting out playfully as he stood after receiving the young girl's hug.

"Of course," the priest replied, his voice calm and even.

"Yeah, bullshit." This came from another man, a slim, younger man with a streak of vibrant blond hair. He stared at Father Poison, his eyes unreadable behind his dark sunglasses.

"You seem to have forgotten that I asked you not to go, Kobra," Father Poison replied, his voice still strangely calm.

The one he called Kobra snorted. "You should be out there with us," he said, leaning against the car and crossing his arms over his chest after hugging Missle Kid.

"Give it a rest, Kid," a third man said, emerging from the driver's seat for HIS embrace, his wild, curly hair full of dust from the road. "Hey Poison," he said before answering a rapid succession of questions from Missle Kid.

"So!" The monster man clapped again. "Who's your friend?"

Panic had been watching the exchange quietly, her fingertips resting ever so gently on the handle of her concealed gun as they did subconsciously when around strangers. "I'm Panicked Star," she said, feeling as if she had said her name at least a hundred times in the past day or so. She was growing tired of the sound.

He approached her and she realized that he was actually a few inches taller than herself. Colorful tattoos decorated his arms and fingers. His greasy brown hair hung in his eyes and a playful smirk rested on his lips at all times. "Never seen you before," he said, looking her over appreciatively and winking.

Panic snorted, unable to stop herself from smiling at the playful nature of this man. "Been runnin' the zones for a while," she shrugged, watching as Missle Kid skittered off again to be with her friends. "We were bound to run into each other sooner or later."

"We just got back from Battery City," the man offered, his voice boastful. "Rescued six rebels."

"This is Fun Ghoul," Father Poison offered to Panic, his face softening just slightly.

"Impressive, Ghoul," Panic used his name, her voice slightly taunting. "Last time we were there we saved eleven."

Ghoul chortled and scoffed. "Sure," he said. "You and what army?"

"No army," Panic retorted, enjoying the exchange and the chance to be boastful herself. She leaned in a bit closer to him, lowering her eyes a bit seductively as she often did subconsciously and murmured, "just me, my friend Rainbow and this," and pulled out her gun with lightning speed, resting it harmlessly under her palm and against the hood of the car.

Ghoul bit his lip and sucked in a breath through his teeth. "Hot damn, Panic," he said. "I don't know where you've been all my life but I'm glad you're here now."

Panic laughed, reminiscing quickly about how much she enjoyed a playful camaraderie. It had been too long since she had felt at ease enough to be her usual joking self. God knows Rainbow wasn't much fun anymore, always stressed. This man called Fun Ghoul, however, made it easy to remember.

As she tipped her head forward after laughing, her eyes met with Father Poison's for a moment. There was something unidentifiable there; a raw, hot emotion that Panic recognized instantly as lust. It caught him just as off guard as it did her and he quickly averted his eyes; Panic's laughter died in her throat. Both were thankful when Kobra spoke again.

"Ghoul, let's go; I need a shower," he said, clearly still irritated with Father Poison for some reason.

"Where you staying?" Fun Ghoul asked, biting his lower lip just slightly.

"The Inn," Panic replied, jutting her chin in the direction.

"Maybe we'll stop by and see ya sometime. Meet Rainbow."

"She'd like that," Panic replied coolly.

Ghoul winked again and then turned his attention to Father Poison, who was looking uncomfortable. "We're going out again in a few days," he said, his voice more serious now. "I know Kobra would love it if you came with us."

The curly-haired man approached.

"Ghoul, leave him alone, he's made his choice," he said, his eyes warm and voice gentle.

"It's alright, Jet," Father Poison replied, his voice just a bit hoarse.

"You'll always be a Killjoy," Ghoul told him, looking directly into his hazel eyes. "No matter what you wear or who you pray to, you're a Killjoy. And Mike is right. You belong out there with us."

Hearing someone's given name sent a bolt of shock up Panic's spine. It had been easily ten years since she had heard a normal name, a name someone's parents had given them. It was jarringly personal and surreal to hear. It made Ghoul's words ring out with more importance. Father Poison felt it too, his mouth twisted into a line of conflict.

Ghoul backed off, winking again at Panic before he got back in the car. "See ya 'round," he said to her, smiling again.

The curly-haired man they called Jet was back in the driver's seat and Kobra looked pointedly at the fire-haired priest before getting in on the other side. No sooner had Ghoul slipped back in than they sped away, headed for some unknown location within the community.

Panic and Father Poison stood in silence for a moment. "So," she said, desperate to end the uncomfortable quiet. "You were a Killjoy?"

Father Poison cleared his throat, his eyes still fixed on the direction in which the car had driven off. "It was a long time ago," he answered. He eventually moved his gaze to meet hers, his eyes burning with several emotions.

"I've heard about you guys," Panic said, trying to remain unhypnotized by his stare. "You've freed hundreds of rebels. You're at the top of the extermination list."

"It's a dangerous life," he replied.

"Is that why you gave it up?"

He looked up at the sky again. "No," he said after a moment. "It would be easier if it were that simple." He finally smiled again, albeit weakly. Panic nodded, deciding not to press the issue.

"Well," she said. "It was nice talking to you, meeting your friends..."

"Yes," Father Poison nodded.

"Maybe I'll see you again," she said, waving a bit and heading over towards the clothing shop she had seen on her way in.

Father Poison watched as the woman walked away from him. The sun was setting in front of her, bathing her in various shades of oranges and reds.

Her thick, ropey hair had been bleached of all color and then washed in the lightest of pink, tied in various knots and braids about her head. Her skin was sun-kissed, her body lean yet curvacious under torn and tattered fabrics that exposed patches of skin in random places, drawing eyes to various spots across her body.

The result was alarmingly alluring.

Back when he was Party Poison, he would have made having a woman like this his mission. He wouldn't have been able to sleep until he felt her flesh beneath his palms, before he could steal the very breath from her lungs with his mouth.

He wouldn't have allowed one inch of her skin to go unexplored...and then he would have discovered it again before morning.

But, his mind scolded, you are not Party Poison. You cannot be him, and you will not.

It had been quite some time since he had noticed the fairer sex; several years at least. But when Panic walked into the library, the candle light burning in her warm green eyes, illuminating a splash of freckles across her nose and the stubborn pout of her full lips, his frozen heart had poured into a melted liquid. His breath had caught; his chest tightened. She was the most incredible kind of beautiful; the kind of beautiful that wasn't aware of it. A natural beauty, like the sun or the ocean...if the ocean even still existed.

It was impossible for her beauty to go unnoticed. Ghoul was instantly aware, to Father Poison's dismay. For the first time he was jealous of his old friend.

He chided himself inwardly, forcing himself to turn and walk in the opposite direction of Panic, back towards the church.

He had not expected to see the three other men who made up the infamous Killjoys today. He had assumed their latest mission would take longer...and of course there was always the fear that they would not come back at all. But they always did. They continued to carry out the promise they had collectively made all those years ago: fight Bl/Ind, stay free.

But he wasn't part of that any more. He couldn't be. Not after...

he shook his head. He still wasn't ready to think about that.

The sight of the church always filled him with the same hopefulness he had felt when he had first climbed the crumbling steps. Several of the stained glass windows remained intact, hauntingly beautiful against the sky. He felt the war waging inside of him quell just slightly as he entered the cathedral, the dark wood and humble altar oddly comforting.

As if moving automatically, which is how he often felt within the chapel, Father Poison fell to his knees before the large crucifix on the back wall of the prayer space, crossing himself and bowing his head.

"Lord," he said, his voice just slightly above a whisper. He spoke freely here, and often, knowing that he would almost certainly be alone. "Lord, forgive me my past," he said, as he often did. "Forgive me those I wronged. Protect those I could not save." He took a deep breath, adding something new to his usual prayer. "Protect me from myself; save me from my own temptation. Amen."

He lowered his lashes, concentrating on the quiet presence of a being he used to doubt...until he had no choice but to believe.


End file.
